Murders, Mansions, and Money
by Gertieunder30
Summary: Nancy Drew receives a strange case file at her doorstep while spending her summer in the Hamptons. She is immediately intrigued by the peculiar nature of the case. A wealthy man living in the Town of West Egg has been murdered, and the main suspect is has been found dead near the scene. All of the clues seem to conflict each other, and Nancy is running out of time.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: A Cry From the Valley of Ashes

Nancy's hand gripped the cold, unfamiliar armrest as the train rattled along, bringing her closer to her destination. She tried not to focus on the bacteria-laden surface as she was nervous enough already. She felt a chill, goosebumps patterning her bare limbs as she sat near the exit. There was something about this case that felt familiar, though she wasn't sure what it was.

She had received the case file a few days earlier through the mail slot of her father's home in the Hamptons. She had missed the rush that only a case could offer and was glad to sacrifice the remainder of her vacation for a grittier scene. She understood the severity of this crime, yet something attracted her to the idea of being the youngest detective to solve a high class murder.

At age eighteen, Nancy knew the nature of the world she was entering. She was all too familiar with the evil that was cultivated in every corner of the world, but that didn't mean she would cower in fear as others threw caution to the wind. She was Nancy Drew, a young and determined detective with a keen eye and a passion for curiosities.

She shifted her view toward the seat next to her and smiled. Bess had only agreed to join when she was offered the chance to explore an abandoned mansion and bask in the old school gossip of rich wives who had nothing better to do. It had been difficult to drag the girl away from the splendor of the Hamptons house. Nancy knew that Bess wouldn't offer much help with the case, but she was comforted by the fact that she wouldn't be alone. Nancy wondered how Ned would feel had she told him where she was going. She understood that lying by omission would have later repercussions, but she didn't see the point in worrying Ned when she was more than capable of caring for herself.

Her hand moved to the locket that hung from her neck and began to fiddle with the clasp, a nervous habit she had developed over the years. She had never been brave enough to open the locket, for she knew that the simple action would open a door to the past that she was not yet ready to step through. Nancy cleared her head, shifting her gaze toward the window and what lay behind it. A desolate and colorless wasteland greeted her. An ominous billboard seemed to stare back, causing Nancy to look down as though she had been caught in a dangerous act.

Bess stirred in her sleep, her blonde curls falling around her face. Nancy often found herself jealous of Bess. Bess was a normal young girl, and she never threw herself at mysteries or risked the lives of others. Nancy almost felt guilty for bringing Bess along. Bess was content with spending summer vacation lounging poolside and spending the evenings dancing with the others who sought relief from the mundanity of everyday life. Nancy's life would never lack zest, and for that she was grateful; though sometimes she fed her domestic fantasies just long enough to realize that they weren't befitting for her character.

The train stopped, letting patrons off and allowing a cool breeze to enter the train car. Nancy could almost feel the desperation that emanated from the floor of the valley. The wind howled briefly, and she heard what sounded like a cry. She shivered again, clutching her files to her chest. She had brought thorough research in hopes that she would be allowed time to read on the train ride over. She tried not to think of the argument she'd had with George before she left.

She had originally intended to bring George along on this case, but George was reluctant to agree. George was known for being fearless in the face of danger, and she often served as Nancy's support during high stakes cases. When Nancy had mentioned the case to George, she acted as though Nancy was pursuing something that wasn't in her dominion. Though Nancy had yet to solve a genuine murder, she had solved many different disappearances and was well known for her work. George had called her foolish and even selfish for wanting the bring along an extra person on a high risk case. She was curious about George's sudden change of mind, but she knew she had to focus her sleuthing efforts on the case ahead.

Nancy opened a file, hoping to find something she had missed in her initial readthrough. She ran her fingers over the words of the first page, pondering the cause of death. A bullet to the chest was straightforward, and the cause of death seemed to hide no clues. It was the motive that troubled her the most; she could tell that this wasn't a robbery or a random killing. Nancy felt that there was more to this case than what could be found in the files.

"Hey Nance," Bess said, yawning sheepishly, "Are we there yet?" Bess rubbed her eyes with her palm and felt her curls, frowning. "I just fixed my hair this morning. What a shame."

Nancy smiled at her friend, taking a moment to relax. Bess could always make Nancy smile with her normalcy, her appropriately girlish responses.

"I think we're close Bess. Did you have any nice dreams?"

"Of course Nance, I dreamt I was floating, drifting away… in the pool back at the Hamptons house," Bess said with a sarcastic grin.

"I thought you wanted to come. You were so excited to engage in mindless gossip," Nancy said, returning Bess's sharp tone.

Bess turned her head toward the window, taking in the grim scenery.

"I've never seen something so dull, and I've been out dancing with five Hamptons boys," Bess said.

Nancy wondered for a second what this stretch of land was called by its natives. She even created a few nicknames of her own. Personally, she chose to call it Shadow Canyon, but she felt that there was something about her preferred title that didn't feel quite right. Bess sensed Nancy's uneasiness and reached over to squeeze her hand. It was quite a role reversal for Nancy, for she was usually the one offering comfort to the more timid Bess. There truly was a first time for everything.

A man made his way through the narrow car and took the aisle seat next to Nancy. His appearance in an almost deserted train car would have been welcome had it not been for his shifty demeanor and the long scar that ran the length of his face.

Nancy felt Bess shudder next to her as the man flashed a half-hearted grin and shuffled his feet, making clouds of dust on the dirty train floor.

"Beautiful day in the valley of ashes, isn't it?" He wondered aloud, his gruff voice shattering the silence.

Nancy gave a slight nod. The "valley of ashes" was a name she could accept; the description perfectly fit the surrounding landscape. Nancy started to wonder if the train was even moving, for the scenery seemed to be frozen around them, no hope of evading the gray skies and barren environment. She felt a strange relief that Bess was the only other person who knew they were going. If she had told Ned where this case would lead her, he would have insisted driving up from Boston and further complicating the case.

This was the type of case that required Nancy to remain discreet as possible, so she and Bess were given their new personas in the case file. Bess was especially excited, as she had been waiting to try her hand at acting. She'd always fancied herself a star. Though Bess was an exceptional actress, Nancy found herself quite surprised when she was able to construct the perfect answer to the mysterious man's second question.

"What brings you ladies to town?"

While Nancy froze in place, Bess tilted her chin up and gave the greatest performance of her life.

"Well sir, I am here to visit my dear and distant cousin. I just recently learned of his home here, and I knew that I just had to see the life he has made for himself. It's so boring back home, but New York presents so many opportunities for entertainment. I just met this young lady here, and she's here for a funeral. Now, sir, I know that sounds drab, but man is this death interesting. You must think it morbid for a lady to talk like this, but I just find it so fascinating to -"

He cut her off with a deep sigh. "I think you're going to enjoy your time here, young lady." He stood from his seat and tipped his hat to Bess, whose fake smile was quickly fading.

Nancy watched him as he moved through the train, waiting for his lanky silhouette to disappear into the train car.

"That was phenomenal, Bess," she said, giving a light clap. "You're definitely going to come in handy during this case."

Nancy reached into her bag and pulled something out. It was a small notebook, bound in leather. Attached to the side was a silver fountain pen. She handed the notebook over to Bess, excited to share this responsibility.

"My own journal? Nance, this is such an honor."

"I'm going to need your help, Bess. You are a much better actress than I am, and you have that girlish charm that never ceases to amaze."

Bess smiled, running her fingers along the cover of the notebook. If Nancy didn't know any better, she could've sworn that a look of excitement spread across Bess's face. She had almost forgotten about her anxieties involving the case when a voice split the silence.

"Attention passengers, we are preparing to make a stop at West Egg."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Filthy Rich Nancy and Bess stretched their arms, taking in their surroundings. The train station was a dark and desolate cavern juxtaposed with elegant and extravagant decor. Nancy felt a chill make its way up her spine as she turned her head, trying to adjust to her unfamiliar surroundings. Bess straightened her posture as much as she could, hoping that she could resemble someone who belonged. "We should probably find our accommodations, Bess," Nancy said, holding her bag close to her chest. Something about West Egg was already making her apprehensive. She couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't meant to be there. "There's a man over there Nance. He looks like he might be searching for somebody," Bess said, leading Nancy to the door. Bess approached the man slowly; Nancy knew that she wasn't used to taking charge in these situations. Nancy felt a familiarity with this man, as if she'd met him before but couldn't quite place him. He was a tall man with a lean figure and an anxious disposition. He wore simple dress and kept his hands folded in front of him, as if he were anticipating something. "Nancy Drew, I presume," he said. His tone was solemn. He appeared to have been close to the deceased. Nancy wondered is his hands had recently deposited a file in a young girl's mailbox. He seemed to be the one who orchestrated her involvement. "I'm Nick Carraway. I need you to come with me. It's not safe for us to speak here." He looked around as if to make sure they weren't being watched and handed Nancy a folded piece of parchment. He turned away to leave, leaving Nancy with even more of a mystery than she had arrived with. She unfolded the parchment and read the hurried, messy handwriting to the best of her ability. It appeared to contain an address and a few specific instructions. _Nancy Drew, _ _The case file you received is secret, and my only demand is that you tell nobody why you have come here while you stay in town. The directions below will take you to an inn where you will approach the front desk and say that you have reservations under Gatz. Your friend Bess Marvin, who you requested a persona for, will approach the desk and claim her lodging under the name Smith. Your rooms are next to each other, but you must pretend that you have just met when you arrive at my home for tonight's dinner. You will receive more instructions once you arrive._ _Best of Luck,_ _Nick Carraway_ Nancy turned to Bess, who was shivering, hugging her arms to her chest. "I don't like this place, Nance. It makes me feel uneasy." Nancy grabbed the other girl's hand, squeezing it to inspire confidence. She and Bess moved toward the exit, taking note of the scenery, trying to take a mental snapshot of the strange environment. The taxi ride from the train station to the inn seemed to be never-ending. Nancy gazed out the window at the endless gray skies that seemed to stretch into an infinite distance. It was as if the town were mourning a loss. Nancy began to wonder about the true nature of this case. The details she received were minimal. She was sure of only three things: A murder had occurred. The deceased was a Mr. Gatsby. The original suspect was dead. Bess had claimed her side of the car, spreading a magazine over her lap and settling down to read up on the current trends. Nancy envied Bess, still yearning for the life of a normal teenage girl. Though the idea of reading vapid magazine headlines and lounging beside the pool seemed somewhat boring, Nancy was jealous nonetheless. She often pictured herself living a careless and perfect existence, having a relationship that wasn't complicated by crime, having more than one living parent. She couldn't help but move her hand to her locket as she thought of her mother. Would she have been proud of Nancy, or would she have shunned her detective daughter? Nancy felt the tears begin to sting in her eyes, and she shook her head. This was no time for emotion. Bess giggled from the other side of the vehicle, running her fingers across a magazine page as she read the contents. Nancy smiled at the simple action. Bess wasn't stupid, but she was easily amused and slightly ditsy. If there was one thing Nancy was thankful for, it was her intelligence and drive. She disembarked from her train of thought as the car came to a stop. "We're here," the driver said as Bess gathered up her things and Nancy moved her hand to her purse. "Ride is payed for ma'am," the driver said, tipping his hat to Nancy. "Somebody is really pushing for us to solve this case, Nance," Bess whispered once they were out of the vehicle. "I'm going to solve this case, Bess. If I don't, then what kind of detective am I?" Bess went silent; it was clear that Nancy wasn't in the mood to talk. They checked into the inn under the names Gatz and Smith. Their rooms were adjacent and on the second floor of the building. They made their best effort to act as though they were perfect strangers; they were unsure of who was watching. Nancy made her way up to her room, avoiding any eye contact with Bess as she made her way up the opposite staircase. They would make no mistakes in keeping to themselves and only conversing when they were sure that there was no one else present. As Nancy approached her room, she wondered what the details of this case would reveal to her. She thought of the clues that she would inevitably come across and the nature of each of the suspects that Mr. Carraway had slipped into her file. She wondered about the nature of the relationship between Mr. Carraway and his ill-fated neighbor. More specifically, she wondered why Mr. Caraway was suspicious enough to call on a detective for a case that appeared to be closed. It had only been a few days since the murder of Mr. Gatsby, and there were already too many questions. Nancy entered her room, the turn of the key in the lock reminding her of home. She felt excitement building up in her chest as she crossed the threshold and flipped on the light switch. She turned on the radio and opened the closet, unpacking her clothing. On one of the closet shelves, she noticed a note that bore her name. She opened it and read the letter. _Nancy Drew, _ _Now that you have arrived at your lodging I can further divulge the information of this case. The contents of this envelope serve to explain your role, your persona. Underneath your bed, you will find a garment bag with your attire for the evening. I hope you did as you were instructed and packed the most simple clothing you own. The gown underneath the bed is the be the most extravagant piece of clothing you own, Miss Helen Gatz. You are a simple farm girl, and you are unfamiliar with the strange ways of your rich and distant cousin, Jay Gatsby. You will refer to the deceased as Jim, for you only ever knew him as cousin Jim. You will meet your uncle Henry Gatz. He is the brother of your father, who has been dead for the past twelve years. You were raised by your mother in rural North Dakota, and you haven't seen your cousin since he left home at age eighteen. You are a simple farm girl and nothing else. You will act amazed by the ways of the upper class and act confused when they talk money, possessions, and current events. You will be introduced to me by Mr. Gatz tonight, and I will introduce you to my cousin, Evie Smith, who you already know as Bess. A Mrs. Meyers will arrive to escort you to a car some time around 6 o'clock. Do not be late. _ _Thank you Miss Drew,_ _Nick Carraway_ Nancy made her way over to the bed and reached her hand underneath, feeling for the garment. She hung the bag on the back of the closet door and unzipped it. The dress was beautiful, a stunning blue with feathers and beads that must have been hand sewn into the material. She had never seen anything like it. It was both elegant and flashy, regal and simple. For one night, at least, she could pretend to be a normal young girl. She wondered what Bess would be wearing, and she wondered about the contents of the letter Bess had received. She truly hoped that they would be able to keep up this charade long enough to solve this murder and bring justice for the deceased Mr. Gatsby. As the excitement of the night continued to build, Nancy prepared for the role of a lifetime. 


End file.
